A/N: A little college-era Faberry oneshot that I wrote in my (nearly nonexistant) free time. I hope you enjoy!


"You know, you really shouldn't smoke," Rachel Berry told her girlfriend of two years, interrupting the companionable silence they had been enjoying on a shaded bench in Central Park one sunny April day.

Quinn Fabray pushed back her pink hair with the hand that wasn't holding the lit cigarette (or cancer stick, as Rachel preferred to call them). "This again?" she sighed. This was possibly the five hundredth time the opinionated brunette had voiced her disapproval of Quinn's habit.

"Yes, this again," Rachel replied tersely. "Smoking ruins your lungs, along with many other internal structures, and significantly raises your risk for lung cancer, throat cancer, heart cancer, coronary and cerebral thrombosis, macular degeneration, ulcers, COPD, erectile dysfunction, emphysema, and other chronic lung diseases. They're literally made up of hundreds of carcinogens, and –"

"You realize I've heard all this information about a million times before, right?" Quinn interrupted, something she usually tried to avoid doing around Rachel, because she knew how much the loud, chatty girl hated being cut off. "Not just from you, but from my family and friends, doctors, random preachy people on the street. If it hasn't changed my mind yet, why would you think today would be the turning point? And I really don't think I need to worry about erectile dysfunction, considering that fact that, you know, I don't have a penis. Unless a sparkly purple dildo counts – and I'm pretty sure it doesn't."

Rachel huffed indignantly. "Well I thought you might at least be concerned at how your addiction could adversely affect my voice. I am a theater major and destined Broadway star, as you know. My voice is my most valuable asset, and the secondhand smoke from your cigarettes can damage it – does damage it, a little more every day, including this very moment."

Quinn stubbed her cigarette on the park bench she and Rachel were sitting on. "I'll smoke less around you, then," she promised. She didn't want to ruin Rachel's voice, after all. She loved Rachel's voice, almost as much as Rachel herself did. "But I'm not quitting." She flicked the butt of the cigarette onto the pavement, causing Rachel to gasp.

"You can't just throw it on the floor, Quinn!" Rachel yelled. "A poor, unknowing animal could pick it up and eat it – or take it back to their children for them to eat. You could be the cause of death for a whole family of innocent little birds."

"Would that really be such a crime?" Quinn asked caustically. "Damn birds wake me up at five every fucking morning." Rachel gave her a look, and Quinn sighed and got up to stick her cigarette on the ashtray on top of a nearby trashcan, before throwing herself back down on the bench next to her girlfriend. "There, happy?"

"As happy as I can be when you plan to continue shredding apart your throat and lungs with smoke particles," Rachel replied pointedly.

Quinn sighed and rolled her eyes. "I know you hate that I smoke, but I hate that you wake me up at the asscrack of dawn every morning singing Don't Rain on My Parade, and you don't see me riding you about it every damn day. As gorgeous as I assure you your voice is, sometimes an artist who stayed up late into the night painting needs her fucking sleep."

"You just said that the birds woke you up."

"I was being polite. Do you see a tree anywhere near the window to our apartment?"

Rachel stuck her tongue out childishly at her girlfriend and crossed her arms. Suddenly, a devious look crawled onto her face, and instantly Quinn felt the urge to back away. "You know, Quinn," Rachel said slowly, uncrossing her arms and leaning closer to her girlfriend. "I could always give you something to replace your cigarettes…."

Quinn liked where this was going. "Oh? And what might that be?"

Rachel's grin grew, and, in a low, seductive voice, she whispered one word, "Bacon."

"Wait, what?"

Rachel leaned back, a confident smirk on her face. "I know I haven't let you have bacon since we moved in together on account of my being both vegan and Jewish, and you have so graciously given up your favorite food for me. But if you promise to quit smoking, I'll put aside my moral and religious qualms, and make you bacon. Every. Single. Day."

"Really?" Quinn was quickly growing excited. Bacon every day? Nothing could beat that! Except maybe sex with Rachel, but she assumed they'd still be doing that too.

"Really."

"And not that shitty tofu bacon stuff that tastes like dog food?" Quinn clarified, just to be sure. "Because I'll know the difference if you try to make that. You'll make real bacon?"

"Real fried pig fat, you have my word," Rachel promised. "Do we have a deal?"

Quinn stared at Rachel's outstretched hand for a few moments, and at the pack of cigarettes lying on her lap for a few more. She thought of the horrible months ahead, full of mood swings and chills and nausea and cravings – and then she thought of all the crispy, juicy, succulent bacon, sizzling on the stove as the delicious aroma filled her nostrils, and Rachel standing in front of the stove every morning in an apron and her little pink panties….

And Quinn threw the pack somewhere into the grass behind them and launched herself at her girlfriend, kissing all the exposed skin within her reach. "Yes, we have a deal! You are the best fucking girlfriend in the world!"

"I know," Rachel agreed, giggling. "But you realize you are going to go find that pack of cigarettes and throw it into a proper trash receptacle, right?"


A/N: Oh, Rachel Berry, you devious little star, you. I love these girls. I, myself, am vegetarian (and will be completely vegan within the next couple months), and I LOVE tofu bacon (even before I gave up meat), but I'd probably set aside my moral qualms to stop my girlfriend from smoking. I have asthma and a really sensitive sense of smell. Smokers are not fun for me to be around.

Let me know what you thought!